[In Death 05] - Ceremony in Death Page 7

  “Christ, nighttime breaking and entering, illegal search and seizure.” Frustrated, Eve dragged both hands through her hair. “What the hell was he thinking? He had to know that anything he found would get tossed out in court. He’d never nail them this way.”

  “I have a feeling he wasn’t worried about court, Eve. He wanted justice.”

  “And now he’s dead, isn’t he? And so’s Alice. Where’s the rest?”

  Roarke scrolled to the last entry.

  Security’s too tight on the building, couldn’t get through it. I’ve been off the streets too damn long. I may have to tag someone to help me on this after all. I’m going to see that witch pays if it’s the last thing I do.

  “That’s all on this—that entry was logged on the night before he died. There may be more, under a different code.”

  So, he hadn’t made her pay, Eve thought. And he hadn’t had time to get help. Not enough time, she thought again with twin surges of relief and sorrow. The entries went a long way toward clearing both Frank and Feeney.

  “But you don’t think so. You don’t think there’s anything else.”

  “No, I don’t. There’s the timing, of course. And he wasn’t that clever with electronics,” Roarke explained. “It was child’s play to find this. Still, we’ll look. It’ll take some time to break through if there’s anything there. And it’ll have to be later. I have several meetings this morning.”

  She turned to him. Odd, she realized, she’d forgotten for a moment he wasn’t working with her. His business and the direction of it was in a much different sphere from hers. “So many billions, so little time.”

  “How true. But I should be able to fiddle a bit more this evening.”

  She knew he hadn’t so much as glanced at the stock reports or taken the morning calls that never failed to come in daily. “I’m taking up a lot of your time.”

  “You are, indeed.” He came around the console, leaned back against it. “And the payment will be your time, Lieutenant. A day or two away when we can both manage it.” Then his smile faded. He took her hand, ran his thumb over the carving on her wedding ring. “Eve, I don’t like to interfere with your work, but I’ll ask you to be particularly careful in this matter.”

  “A good cop’s always careful.”

  “No,” Roarke said, looking into her eyes, “she’s not. She’s courageous, she’s smart, she’s driven, but she’s not always careful.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve dealt with worse than Selina Cross.” She kissed him lightly. “I’ve got to go in, check on some reports. I’ll try to let you know if I’m going to be late.”

  “Do that,” he murmured, and watched her go.

  She was wrong, he mused. He doubted very much if she’d ever dealt with worse than Selina Cross. And he had no intention of letting her deal with it alone. Moving to the ’link, Roarke called his assistant and arranged to have all his off-planet and out-of-town trips for the next month canceled.

  He intended to stay very close to home. And his wife.

  “No drugs,” Eve stated as she looked over the toxicology report on Alice. “No alcohol. She wasn’t under the influence. But you heard her talking to someone who wasn’t there, and she runs out into the path of an oncoming cab. She’s worked herself up into a state of terror, then was triggered by the chanting on the phone. They knew how to get to her, how to manipulate her.”

  “It’s not illegal to chant over a ’link.”

  “No.” Eve considered. “But is it illegal to threaten to harm over a public transmitter.”

  “That’s reaching,” Peabody returned. “And it’s only a misdemeanor.”

  “It’s a start. If we manage to tie the transmission to Selina Cross, we can hassle her. In any case, I think it’s time we met. How about a little trip to Hell, Peabody?”

  “I’ve been dying to go.”

  “Who isn’t?” But before she could rise, Feeney burst into her office. His eyes were shadowed, his face unshaven.

  “Why are you primary on Alice’s case? A traffic accident. Why the hell is a homicide lieutenant handling a traffic fatality?”

  “Feeney—”

  “She was my goddaughter. You didn’t even call me. I heard it on the goddamn news.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Sit down, Feeney.”

  He jerked away when she touched his arm. “I don’t need to sit down. I want answers, Dallas. I want some fucking answers.”

  “Peabody,” Eve murmured, and waited until her aide had gone out and closed the door. “I am sorry, Feeney, I didn’t know you were her godfather. I spoke to her mother and her brother, and simply assumed they would let the rest of the family know.”

  “Brenda’s under sedation,” Feeney tossed out. “What the hell do you expect? She lost her father and her daughter within days of each other. Jamie’s only sixteen. By the time he called a doctor and saw to his mother, got a hold of Sally, I’d already heard it on-screen. Jesus, Jesus, she was just a kid.”

  He turned away, pulled at his hair. “I used to give her piggyback rides, sneak her candy.”

  This was what it was like to lose someone you loved, she thought. And was grateful she loved so few. “Please sit down, Feeney. You shouldn’t have come in today.”

  “I said I don’t need to sit down.” His voice leveled as he turned back to study her. “I want an answer, Dallas. Why are you on Alice’s accident?”

  She couldn’t afford to hesitate, couldn’t afford not to lie. “Peabody was a witness,” she began, grateful she could give him that much. “She was on a free evening, and she’d been to a club. She saw the accident. It shook her, Feeney, and she called me. It was knee-jerk, I guess. I couldn’t be sure what had happened, so I told her to relay to Dispatch, to secure the scene, and I responded. Since I had, and I had all the data, I notified next of kin. I figured it would be easier on the family if I handled it.” She moved her shoulders, bitterly ashamed at using old friends. “I thought it was the least I could do, for Frank.”

  He never took his eyes off her face. “Is that all of it?”

  “What else is there? Listen, I just got the tox report. She wasn’t using, Feeney. She wasn’t drunk. Maybe she was still upset about Frank, or something else. I don’t know. Could be she didn’t even see the damn cab. It was a lousy night, fog, rain.”

  “The bastard was speeding, wasn’t he?”

  “No.” She couldn’t give him anyone to blame, couldn’t offer even that prickly comfort. “He was within the limit. His record’s clean, and so was the on-site drug and alcohol. Feeney, she bolted out in front of him, and there was nothing he could do. I want you to understand that. I talked with the driver myself, and I investigated the scene. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s.”

  It had to be someone’s, he thought. He couldn’t lose two people back to back for no reason. “I want to talk to Peabody.”

  “Give her a little time, will you?” Layers of guilt added onto the burden she already carried. “It really wrecked her. I’d really like to keep her focused on something else until she settles with it.”

  He drew a deep breath, shuddered it out. Beneath his tearing grief was gratitude that someone he trusted would care for his godchild. “You’ll close it then, personally? And give me all the data?”

  “I’ll close it, Feeney. I promise you.”

  He nodded, rubbed his hands over his face. “Okay. I’m sorry I jumped you.”

  “It’s all right. It doesn’t matter.” She hesitated, then put her hand on his arm, squeezed lightly. “Go home, Feeney. You don’t want to be here today.”

  “I guess I will.” He put a hand on the door. “She was a sweetheart, Dallas,” he said quietly. “My God, I don’t want to go to another funeral.”

  When he left, Eve sank into her chair. Misery and guilt and anger twisted around her throat like barbs. She rose again, grabbed her bag. She was, she told herself, in the perfect mood to meet Selina Cross.

  “How do you want to p
lay it?” Peabody asked as they pulled up in front of an elegant old building downtown.

  “Straight. I want her to know Alice talked to me, and that I suspect her of harassment, dealing, and conspiracy to murder. If she’s got any brains, she’ll know I don’t have anything solid. But I’ll give her something to think about.”

  Eve stepped out of the car, ran her gaze over the building with its carved glass windows and grinning gargoyles. “She lives here, she’s not hurting financially. We’re going to have to find out just where she gets her money. I want everything on record, Peabody, and keep your eyes open. I want your impressions.”

  “I’ll give you one right now.” Peabody clamped her recorder onto her uniform jacket, but kept her eyes on the topmost window of the building, a wide, round glass intricately carved. “That’s another inverted pentagram. Satanic symbol. And those gargoyles don’t look friendly.” She smiled wanly. “You ask me, they look hungry.”

  “Impressions, Peabody. Try to keep the fantasies down to a minimum.” Eve approached the security screen.

  “Please state your name and your business.”

  “Lieutenant Eve Dallas and aide, NYPSD.” She held up her badge to be scanned. “To see Selina Cross.”

  “Are you expected?”

  “Oh, I don’t think she’ll be surprised.”

  “One moment.”

  While she waited, Eve studied the street. There was plenty of pedestrian and vehicular traffic, she noted. But most of those who walked used the other side of the street, and many of those eyed her and the building warily.

  Oddly, there wasn’t a single glida grill or street hawker in sight.

  “You are cleared to enter, Lieutenant. Please proceed to elevator one. It is already programmed.”

  “Fine.” Eve looked up, caught the shadow of movement behind the topmost glass. “Look official, Peabody,” she murmured as they approached the heavily grilled front doors. “We’re under observation.”

  The grills slid back, locks snicked open. The light on a recessed security panel blinked from red to green. “A lot of hardware for an apartment building,” Peabody commented, and ignoring the fluttering in her stomach, stepped in behind Eve.

  Like a viewing parlor, the lobby area was heavily into red. A two-headed serpent slithered over the bloodred carpet, the gold threads of its eyes glinted as it watched a black-robed figure slice a curved knife over the throat of a white goat.

  “Lovely art.” Eve lifted a brow as Peabody carefully picked her way around the snake. “Wool doesn’t bite.”

  “You can’t be too careful.” She glanced back as they stepped to the elevator. “I really hate snakes. My brother used to catch them out in the woods and chase me with them. Always had a phobia.”

  The ride up was smooth and fast, but it gave Eve enough time to detect yet another security camera in the small, black-mirrored car.

  The doors opened into a spacious foyer with floors of black marble. Twin red velvet settees flanked an archway and boasted carved arms of snarling wolves. A floral arrangement speared out of a pot shaped like a boar’s head.

  “Wolfbane,” Peabody said quietly, “belladonna, foxglove, skullcap, peyote.” She shrugged at Eve’s considering look. “My mother’s an amateur botanist. I can tell you that’s not your usual flower arrangement.”

  “But the usual is so tedious, isn’t it?”

  They got their first face-to-face look at Selina Cross exactly as she wanted to be seen. Flanked by the archway in a snug black dress that brushed the floor, her feet bare with the toenails painted a violent red, she posed. And smiled.

  Her skin was vampire white, the slash of red over her full lips glossy as fresh blood. Her eyes glittered green and feline in a narrow, undoubtedly witchlike face that wasn’t beautiful, but was eerily compelling. Her hair fell, black against black, from that rigid center part, to her waist.

  The hand she gestured with held rings on every finger and her thumb. A silver chain was attached to each and twisted into an intricate mesh over the back of her hand.

  “Lieutenant Dallas and Officer Peabody, isn’t it? What interesting visitors on such a dull day. Will you come in…to my parlor?”

  “Are you alone, Ms. Cross? It would simplify this if we could speak with Mr. Alban as well.”

  “Oh, what a shame.” She turned, silks whispering, and slipped through the arch. “Alban’s busy this morning. Sit down.” She gestured again, encompassing a generous room crowded with furniture. Every seat boasted the heads or claws or beaks of some predator. “Can I offer you something?”

  “We’ll skip the refreshments.” Considering it apt, Eve chose a chair with the arms of a hound.

  “Not even coffee? That is your drink, isn’t it?” Then she shrugged, slicked a fingertip over the pentagram above her eyebrow. “But suit yourself.” With that same studied skill, she lowered to a curved settee that stood on cloven feet and draped her long arms over the back. “Now, what can I do for you?”

  “Alice Lingstrom was killed early this morning.”

  “Yes, I know.” She continued to smile pleasantly, as though discussing the nice run of weather. “I could tell you I witnessed the…accident through my scrying mirror, but I doubt you’d believe that. Of course, I’m not one to disdain technology and often watch the news and other forms of entertainment on-screen. The information’s been public for hours.”

  “You knew her.”

  “Of course; she was a pupil of mine for a time. A dissatisfactory one as it turned out. Alice complained to you about my tutelage.” It wasn’t formed as a question, but she waited, as if for an answer.

  “If you mean she reported to me that she was drugged, sexually abused, and was a witness to an atrocity, then yes, she complained.”

  “Drugs, sex, and atrocities.” Selina let out a low, purring laugh. “What an imagination our little Alice had. A shame she couldn’t use it to broaden her vision. How is your imagination, Lieutenant Dallas?” She flicked the hand gloved with mesh. In the small marble fireplace, flames burst to life.

  Peabody jolted, didn’t manage to muffle a yelp, but neither woman acknowledged her. They continued to stare, unblinking at each other.

  “Or may I call you Eve?”

  “No. You can call me Lieutenant Dallas. It’s a little warm for a fire, don’t you think? And a bit early in the day for parlor tricks.”

  “I like it warm. You have excellent nerves, Lieutenant.”

  “I also have low tolerance for grifters and dealers and child killers.”

  “Am I all of that?” Selina tapped her sharp red nails on the back of the settee, her only outward sign of annoyance in Eve’s lack of response. “Prove it.”

  “I will. Where were you last night between the hours of one and three A.M.?”

  “I was here, in my ritual room, with Alban and a young initiate we call Lobar. We were engaged in a private sexual ceremony from midnight until nearly dawn. Lobar is young and…enthusiastic.”

  “I’ll want to talk to them both.”

  “You can contact Lobar any evening between eight and eleven at our club. As for Alban, I don’t keep his schedule, but he is generally here or at the club most nights. Unless you believe in magic, Lieutenant, you’re wasting your time. I could hardly have been here, fucking two very entertaining men, and out luring poor Alice to her death.”

  “Is that what you consider yourself, a magician?” Eve glanced toward the still burning fire with a mild sneer. “That’s nothing more than trickery and distraction of the eye. You can be licensed to juggle on the streets for two thousand credits a year.”

  Selina’s muscles quivered as she sat forward. Her eyes were burning now, as the fire did. “I am a high priestess of the dark lord. Our numbers are legion, and I have powers that would make you weep.”

  “I don’t cry easily, Ms. Cross.” Ah, a temper, Eve thought with satisfaction. And easily ruffled pride. “You’re not dealing with an impressionable eighteen-year-old girl now, or her fr
ightened grandfather. Which one of your legion called Alice last night and played a tape of chanting threats?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. And you’re beginning to bore me.”

  “The black feather on the windowsill was a nice touch. Or simulated feather, I should say, but she wouldn’t have known that. Are you into droid pets, Ms. Cross?”

  Idly, Selina lifted a hand, skimmed it through then down her hair. “I don’t care for…pets at all.”

  “No? No cats and ravens?”

  “How predictable that would be.”

  “Alice believed you were a shape-shifter,” Eve said and watched as Selina smiled. “Care to give us a demonstration of that little talent?”

  Selina’s nails began to tap again. Eve’s tone was as insulting as a backhanded slap. “I’m not here to entertain you. Or to be mocked by your small mind.”

  “Is that what you call it? Were you entertaining Alice with cats and birds and threatening chants over her ’link? How could she feel safe in her own home? Was she such a threat to you?”

  “She was nothing to me but an unfortunate failure.”

  “You were seen selling illegals to Frank Wojinski.”

  The abrupt switch had Selina blinking. When her lips curved now, the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “If that were true, we wouldn’t be having this discussion here in my home, but in Interview. I’m an herbalist, again licensed, and I often sell or trade perfectly legal substances.”

  “Do you grow your herbs here?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do, and distill my potions and medications.”

  “I’d like to see them. Why don’t you show me your work area?”

  “You’ll need a warrant for that, and we both know you haven’t cause for one.”